Common Ground
by karebear
Summary: “Sawyer works on a barter system. Kate understands this. It's easier, that way, to know where you stand.”


**Title:** Common Ground  
**Author:** karebear  
**Disclaimer:** LOST belongs to J.J. I'm just a fangirl.  
**Rating: **G**  
Characters/Pairing:** Kate/Sawyer  
**Potential Spoilers:** General Season 1

There's no pretending with him.

He sees her for who she really is. Jack tries, but Jack needs things from her. Jack needs honesty, and goodness. Jack is looking for redemption. Jack wants to be a hero.

She doesn't want to be caught up in Jack.

Sawyer doesn't ask for anything. He doesn't ask for the truth, or for sacrifices, or for the greater good. Sawyer works on a barter system. Kate understands this. It's easier, that way, to know where you stand.

Their relationship has grown, not out of longing, but out of necessity. A simple kiss can get her something that Jack needs, so she does it. A juvenile game can bring about an honest conversation and a badly needed drink, so she's all for that, too. It's hot outside, and she's not gonna watch him dive into that picture-postcard place under the waterfall without her because of some pointless modesty or pride. She dives in after him.

When he asks her about the case, she doesn't feel obligated to lie. She doesn't care what he thinks of her. He loots the bodies. "They won't miss it." They don't need it, anymore.

Sawyer likes to feel important. That's why he stockpiles the things he knows the survivors will need. She doesn't need anything from him, but he wants her. She'll give him something, here and there, a little bit of hope. Barter system. She doesn't feel guilty when she does it with him.

Jack is needy. She's afraid of him. She's afraid that he'll see a relationship building between them when there isn't one. Jack needs validation. He needs someone to tell him he's doing the right thing. He needs someone to make him believe his life is worthwhile, even when he can't save everyone.

Jack needs to know if she's a good person, if he can justify being with her. Jack needs to know what she did to land in handcuffs with a U.S. Marshall on a 15-hour cross-pacific flight. Sawyer doesn't ask.

Sawyer understands. Sawyer lets her run. But he's always waiting, always there when she wanders back.

They fight. They yell truths at each other, because honesty cuts deep. She calls him an asshole, he calls her a coward. They got physical, once, when she usurped his position on the raft. Taking something that he paid for - that's underhanded, dirty. That's unacceptable.

He won't presume to tell her she needs to stop running, but by holding his ground on the issue of the raft, that's what he's doing.

By not pushing her away with the invisible wall of unrealistic expectations that surrounds Jack, Sawyer draws her to him.

Their relationship is built on little white lies. He calls her Freckles even though she hasn't had any visible ones since kindergarten. She asked him why, once, and he told her it was because he knew they'd been there when she was innocent. "I've got this image of you, little girl, big smile. Hair in pigtails with those bright red ribbons."

She doesn't tell him that she hated pigtails, because red was her favorite color, so maybe he's halfway there. What she does instead is tell him about the picture in her head - the blonde bowl cut on the boy who hides in his closet and plays with toy dinosaurs.

"No dinosaurs," he corrects. "Trucks."

She chuckles. "Sure, Sawyer. You were born bad."

His face takes on that mock-offended expression he does so well. "I'll have you know dinosaurs are a lot more dangerous than trucks. Just ask Hurley."

She raises an eyebrow.

"His theory on the invisible monster," is the explanation. Somehow Kate isn't surprised.

He lets her go to Jack when she feels like she can - when she tries to explain herself to the doctor, when she decides that maybe she deserves redemption. He lets her come to him when she discovers she isn't ready to shed her old ways yet.

It's harder to find him now, when the raft is almost ready to leave. They're both trying to get reaccquainted with the way life will feel when they can't find each other. Neither of them are particularly good at goodbyes.

They don't owe each other anything, but Kate feels like maybe she owes Sawyer a last joke, a smile, something to remember her as he sails away. She wants one of his unapologetic wisecracks. He's given her custody of the treasure hoard he's leaving behind. She'll do it justice.

She wants to believe that he'll come back for her, but in her heart she can't. As she watches him disappear into the blue horizon, she knows this is forever. Because this island is a special place, and when they go back to the real world, and go their separate ways, by unspoken understanding they won't come back together. Because he'll see things while he's gone that will change him. Because the island will change her.

She can't trust anything they share, and he can't either, and they're both okay with that.

Kate has trust issues. So does Sawyer. It's their common ground.


End file.
